Disclaimer: (Our dear readers! Each and every one of you who decided to take time and check out our story is precious to us, as well as each opinion. We thank each of you who took time to leave a comment, a review or a complaint. Time is precious and it matters to us that you spent some of yours to read and review our work. Thank you.
We also need to remind you that we are a group of roleplayers that turn their scripts into fanfics and present them to you here. This particular story does, indeed, revolve around Geralt and Yennefer, but not them alone, for their world includes other people dear to them.
We have read the books, played the game and watched the show and were left disappointed at how some things, characters and plots were handled. Our ideas for this story include all the main characters of the saga, and we wish to give them all time they need to shine. This story does contain original characters that we have entwined into the world in a way that we felt was natural to enrich the story and the main characters and show more of their facets. We do give all of the main cast equal time and attention, we assure you. It's why we do it in the first place: to spend more time with them than we could in books, game and show.
If any of you do not approve of original characters - even though you have accepted them in games and the show but don't trust us to interest you in what we have in store - it's all right. It's impossible to satisfy everybody's taste.
We thank you all for checking out our story and wish you a great day.)
CHAPTER 11
In the hall on the way to her room, Ciri heard voices. They had chosen a room for Kain not too far from her own, probably not intending to leave him alone for long enough that they could meet up, anyway.
She stopped outside their door, her back against the wall. Their voices carried loud and clear and she heard with ease everything they were discussing. None of it made her feel any better. Especially considering Kain's earlier insistence he deserved whatever came to him. It sounded too much like giving up to her ears. She needed him to fight.
The moment it was made clear Geralt and Vesemir were about to depart, she quickly moved to her own room on silent feet, leaving the door ajar so she could hear them should they decide to discuss anything further between them.
While she waited, she took a seat on her bed. The linens probably had not been changed or shaken out since she was last here. She didn't care.
Once she heard their footsteps recede, she poked her head back out into the hallway to check the coast was clear. Finding it was, she crossed to Kain's door again and knocked. "It's me. May I come in?"
Kain chuckled despite himself, still sitting against the wall with his eyes closed. "It's not actually my room, you do realize it, don't you?"
Ciri opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind her again. "I do. I just wasn't sure if you would want to see me."
"Why's that?"
"If I had gone with Geralt to the druid camp instead of insisting on spending it with you, you would still be in Skellige," she said, leaning against the wall. "Free as a bird."
Kain shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm still free. I could escape and no one would find me again. I know the keep and its surroundings. I just don't want to."
Ciri frowned. "Why? Why would you not want to?"
"Because I don't question what happens when I see that it does so for a reason.
"They deserve to get their satisfaction for what I did. So do I.
"If it wasn't like that, I'd have escaped your group back on Skellige."
"They always told me not to act out of vengeance. To kill without euphoria. Is this not vengeance? It won't change what happened."
"They view it as justice. They're not completely wrong. I took a life that was important to them."
"And if the trial does not go your way…" They will take a life that is important to me, Ciri thought, but couldn't muster to say it out loud.
She took a seat on the cot beside him, shoulder to shoulder because it calmed her, and leaned back against the wall. "So… fifty-five years, hm? I thought I'd finally met someone my own age."
"I was eighteen at the time of the Tournament," he murmured as if to himself. "Fifty-five years ago... There must be something wrong with that. Or with me..."
"I believe you," she said, if that meant anything at all to him. "I have seen enough in this world and those beyond to know that anything is possible."
"I remember that guy, Gweld," he mused. "The last one I fought. Red hair, very agile, but also very rash. Predictable. I remember he had a best friend with white hair... I glimpsed them often while at Kaer Morhen, but I didn't remember his face, nor name... until now when it came back. Geralt. It's strange.
I've always remembered Vesemir, however, and he looked... well, younger. Much younger."
He sucked in a breath, rubbed his face and sighed in defeat.
"Maybe I'm crazy." He paused, then added in afterthought, "Only Vesemir remembers me, too."
It was strange thinking of Geralt as a youth. Vesemir, too. Ciri realized she'd somehow always believed them to just be… old. She wondered what they were like back then. "You are not crazy. But you have said it yourself: there are forces in this world beyond our control. And sometimes beyond our understanding. Perhaps some day you will find the answers."
She paused, toying with the hem of her frayed shirt. She'd have to get a new one somewhere. "Maybe that is why I have been unable to part from you these past few days. Maybe you were meant to come here and find answers."
That was almost a depressing thought. She had counted on it being something more… personal.
"I'm here because my past has finally caught up with me. You, though…" He chuckled softly. "You work in your own mysterious ways. And why you kept finding me, only you will know."
"I'm not so sure I will. It's not yet clear to me why or how. I've never been able to do that with anyone else." Another brief pause. "I can feel Geralt sometimes. When we are close. But not far away like I did with you. And people can call me silly. They can call me a child. They can believe it is infatuation of youth. But I know it is more than that.
"I was a Child of Surprise, you know? Destined for Geralt. But he denied me the first times we met. I'm still not entirely certain why. But I knew, I just knew, he would come back for me in the end. That we would be together. And he did. He found me in the Brokilon forest. He watched me drink the water. And when the Queen asked who I wanted to go with I said Geralt. It was a soul-deep certainty.
"I have a very similar feeling when I look at you. I just don't understand what it means."
Kain thought about it. "Maybe it's like you said - feeling lonely and wishing to find someone your age to relate to, because everybody else isolated you as a child."
"I think you downplay your own importance," she said, watching him with a crooked smile. "But I can not tell you that you are wrong. I don't have the answers yet."
She turned to him more fully, her shoulder to the wall so she could better watch him. "Do you feel anything? I know you said it is rare you have allowed new people this close you. And do not worry, I am not looking for declarations of love and adoration," she added with yet another smile. "I just wonder if what I feel, this strange effect you have on me, if it is one-sided?"
With his eyes still closed, he felt her gaze on him, searching. He contemplated how to actually manage to explain.
"I knew my mother," he said. "But lived an orphan life since I was five. She was the only person I yearned to be with, the only one I ever felt I belonged to, and yet I rarely saw her in flesh. I always knew we couldn't be together. From early on she explained to me that we had to be hidden from those who'd hunt us, and apart we had more chances than together. Most of what I saw of her after coming to The Cat School was dreams. Always so real, but so short...
"When she brought me to the witchers when I was five, I realized I had to learn to never get attached to anyone. I didn't master that art flawlessly, but I worked on it; licked my wounds, and tried again."
He paused, heaved a deep sigh.
"When you ask me what I feel, it's both hard and scary to dig around there to find out for sure. It never brought me any pleasure or peace before, and now my instinct firmly refuses to search for it.
"But I have already told you that what you've managed to do no one has in many years. I don't know why I let you stay and be around, but it felt right, and I trusted it. I don't regret my choices."
Ciri smiled a little despite his sad childhood history and the way it affected him now. They all had those in one form or another, though his seemed harsher than most.
But his explanation was enough for her. It was all she needed. Just a confirmation she had not imagined everything in her head, and that no matter how small, he had felt something, too. A difference.
"Will your Griffin be frightened when he cannot find you?" she asked. "Or can he sense where you are?"
"He'll be fine. Go get some rest. You didn't get much, and there are Riders coming."
"Of course. Right before a battle your body and mind always feels ready for rest," she said teasingly, getting to her feet and heading for the door. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll be close by." Unless Avallac'h had plans to lock her away again.
Ciri left his room and headed in search of Yennefer. Due to everything that had happened, the armor she had acquired in Skellige had been left behind. Ciri could really use some of Yen's skills to help her fashion something out of Geralt's old discarded pieces.
"If Ciri has used her power and the Wild Hunt is on its way, you need to make a combined effort to help me with Keira," Triss snapped.
She'd been pushing about the boy, questioning the happenings and what little she'd managed to pick up on why he was here and wanted Yennefer to fill her in. Yennefer hadn't cared to and nor was she interested in Triss's particular reasons for why when there were bigger things to concern themselves with.
"You haven't tended to her healing? Isn't that your specialty?"
Triss fixed her with an openly hostile glare, her usual flare of tolerance and sometimes understanding reserved only for those with a cock – one particular cock, that is – and even then it could be tried.
"You know it's not. She came here to help you – to help Ciri."
As that name alone should have inspired some kind of contrition for Yennefer's actions—and it did—deep down, deep in the very part of her heart that was reserved solely for her child and to help her.
And she was Yennefer's child.
"Fine. Every little bit helps," Yennefer conceded. She rose up, swept a hand along her sides and smiled when Ciri eventually joined them in the hall. Yennefer walked over to her and took a hold of her hand before Triss could bombard her with questions about the witchers' prisoner, guiding Ciri with her so they could stroll.
"Been tending to your friend?"
"I… don't know what that means," Ciri admitted with a small frown, holding onto Yennefer's hand like she was still a child. "I won't let them hurt him. No matter what the outcome of this trial. You know that, right?"
Yennefer squeezed her hand to let her know that she did and that she admired Ciri for her determination, for the loyalty and love she appeared to be showing the boy.
"And what do you think you'll be able to do to prevent it?" Yennefer wasn't trying to be condescending or break her down. She wanted Ciri to think, to realize that fate could only be fought for so long before the inevitable caught up or worse. "Take him and shuffle yourselves off into another dimension or deep hole so that he can continue to hide for the rest of his life? Your life? All the while trying to outrun the Wild Hunt? If you think Geralt is harsh or feeling broken now because of this discovery, of some unresolved history, can you imagine what would happen to him if he were to lose you because of it, too? How he'd blame himself? How little chance the boy would have if you get caught again? He's a witcher, Ciri. They have a code, they had a means of dealing with their own, and as little as you and I understand of it, they have the right to deal with it as fairly as they can."
"Fairly being the key-word," Ciri said. "They are prejudice because they are angry. Because they cared for whoever Kain killed. That means they are not fit to judge this case fairly.
"I will do what I feel is necessary to protect those who matter. Just like you do. Just like Geralt does."
She was silent a while, trying to stifle the ire she felt rise within her. She was getting herself all worked up.
"I need your help. With something of an entirely different nature. Armor. I have none. Will you help me fashion something from one of Geralt's old jerkins? Your magic works fast and, sadly, my hands do not. Not when it comes to sewing."
"Have you known Geralt to be anything but fair?"
He'd never been purposely biased, in fact, everything that came from his mouth in regard to his code and what he did was honest. It was one of the many things Yennefer most loved about him. He called her out on her flaws but at the same time respected them, knew who she was and had never tried to change her.
"You're thinking with something other than your heart. You remember why you wanted to become a Witcher to begin with, why you were so determined to learn to fight?" Triss's former talks of war and Ciri's immediate want to jump into it to avenge what had happened – both Ciri and Geralt had told her about it on separate occasions. "They're good people, Ciri, they don't just execute anyone for the sake of it."
Yennefer let her change the subject, though, let her push on as though it was enough, and nodded. The sorceress didn't let her pull away from her, walking her to Geralt's room so that they could see what they could find for Ciri to wear.
Ciri didn't bring it up again because she did not know how to justify her own defense of Kain and why he mattered so much to her to begin with. And the more she fumbled with her words, the more she was certain they would all brush it aside as some meaningless infatuation that would end the moment she caught sight of something new and pretty.
They headed to Geralt's room and Ciri rifled through one of the chests she knew he'd used for armor in the past, gathering a few pieces that might be able to be made into something different with the help of the sorceress – leather, chainmail, and steel among them. "I liked the armor Cerys lent me on Skellige, but I would prefer to protect more of my body than just my tits. Knowing Eredin that is not where his riders will strike, anyway."
"That's probably for the best," Yennefer supplied, unable to contain her amusement. "As we have a value for more than just those tits of yours." She glanced at the armor, gestured for the girl to straighten up, and helped her into one of the chest pieces to see how and where to modify it for her and how they could change it to make it fit like a glove.
Ciri stood, allowing the sorceress to dress her and take measurements, watching her as she moved around. "Does Geralt still not remember?"
Ciri was two sizes smaller than Geralt who'd been fighting demons and monsters most his life and build up a touch of mass along with muscle, making it so she practically swam in the armor.
"No. But I'm beginning to think it doesn't matter anymore. He—he seems to still seek me out." And the sex was still spectacular, although a lot more emotional for Yennefer. "Has he said anything?"
She helped Ciri out of the main piece, slipped the chainmail over her head so that it hung on her and Yennefer could see where it would need to be cinched, and then slowly began the altercations.
"That is progress, right?" Ciri asked, allowing Yen to move her as needed. "He has said nothing. Though we haven't actually had a chance to talk."
"I'm not sure what that is," Yennefer retorted honestly. "He could have kept Triss in Skellige with him, but he didn't—"
When the chainmail was cinched in place and curved to her chest in all the right places, the sorceress stepped back.
"How's it feel? Good?"
Ciri looked down at herself, considering. "Feels good. Like I can move but also won't be easily cleaved in two. And Triss could never compare with you," she added, and that was from someone who loved Triss, as well.
Her lack of hesitation in the comparison surely touched Yen – so much so that she hadn't even realized she had an insecurity about it, that she'd mentally compared what had anchored him to Triss before and kept her going back here and there when things were particularly difficult for Yennefer and Geralt. "Sometimes it could be said she's better than me. Humanity wise."
And Triss was. She had all the qualities, the understanding, the compassion at times as needed and a kind of parental quality niceness that Yennefer could hardly even try to replicate.
After Ciri's confirmation, Yennefer reached for another piece of armor, the leather that would hold it in place and looked like a dangling sack of potatoes with way too much to work with. She tugged at the straps to see how tight she could get them, what needed the magic needle to do and where it was most necessary.
"It doesn't feel too heavy?"
"You have humanity, Madam Yennefer," Ciri said softly, smiling down at her until she straightened and tugged on the leather straps, making Ciri gasp for breath until the sorceress adjusted them. "You are just more reserved. There is nothing wrong with that. I quite like it. No frills. No pretenses. And when you say you love me, it means more coming from you." Ciri paused for another consideration. "No, it's fine. I am very strong."
Again, she'd touched the sorceress, and for a second a brush of tears had warmed behind her eyes. What was going on? The types of emotions Yennefer was displaying was only those pregnant women went on about.
Ridiculous!
Yennefer guessed that the revelation just made her fear and know what she could lose if she wasn't able to fix this and something was, in fact, to happen between Geralt and her that would split them down the middle.
Yen shook it off quickly, refusing to delve into the unknown.
"You are," she agreed.
Another twitch of her fingers, and the leather had found its spot around Ciri's chest, securing in place for a minute like a choker to make sure that whoever attempted to slit her throat would fail. A nice design, but one Yen reconsidered before loosening it, peeling it from her, adding the second pieces of metal.
Fully getting into the craft, stepping back once she was done so that Ciri could look at herself in the mirror and decide whether or not she was comfortable in it.
"You sure you'll be able to fight in this? It's not your… regular style and the chainmail hangs a little low in the front—although it's going to give your thighs a lot of coverage."
Ciri moved to examine herself in the looking glass, shifting her weight from foot to foot so she could see every angle. A small smile bloomed on her face. She looked like a warrior.
"It's perfect," she said, doing some lunges for good measure to show Yen how easily she could move, rounding it off with a backwards somersault just to show off. "They will go for my legs, arms, and sides. They always do," she murmured, running her fingers over the armor, amazed by what Yen could do with that magic of hers.
Yennefer smiled at her display, loving how far she'd come and how much she'd continued to do despite the fact that she'd been away from them for so long.
She'd become a formidable fighter.
"And the face?" She reached out to touch what she was talking about, the scar Ciri had gained that was very similar to that of Giralt's and only further appeared to mark their destinies and that they belonged. "What shall we do with that?"
Ciri lowered her eyes self-consciously the moment Yen's fingertips touched her scar, and pulled away. Not from unkindness, but a great discomfort she had yet to overcome. "Leave it," she said, straightening and squaring her shoulders, turning to eye herself in the looking glass once more. "Or give me another. Maybe it will make me less of a target."
"Less of a target in what way?" Yennefer asked, softening her tone, letting Ciri pull away, reading her loathing toward the scar that most wore with honor. Not that there was any honor in being hunted.
"Wishful thinking, I suppose," Ciri said, almost absentmindedly. "It does not matter how ugly I am. Men will stick their cocks in anything…"
She shook free of that thought, of the memories, for they brought nothing she wanted to think about. She looked to the window, noting the sun's position on the sky.
"We should go. The trial will be starting." Ciri paused once more and softened a little, tentatively pulling Yen in for a hug. "Thank you for this."
The sorceress's heart dropped sympathetically at her cynical view of sex. Yen knew how hard that particular venture was, how hard it must have been for Ciri to be on the constant run, and everything she must have encountered.
It also made Yennefer angry as hell.
She drew the girl against her, hugging her tightly to her chest but didn't let her go.
"Do me a favor, Ciri. If and when the outcome of this trial goes a certain way—one you might not like, don't… don't run off, don't just disappear."
She pulled back and once again took Ciri's face into her hands, making sure that the girl could see how serious she was about that, how much it would hurt if Ciri did, and how worried Yennefer was.
"We will deal with it. Together."
How could Ciri make such a promise when she was so frightened of the outcome? How could she predict her own reactions when she could not even control her temper half the time?
And yet, she nodded. "I will not leave you to fight The Hunt alone." That she could promise.
She found Yen's hand with hers and headed out the door.
The Wild Hunt was the least of Yennefer's concerns in this scenario but she nodded, anyway, letting Ciri think that it was enough to appease, and trailed behind her as they headed out of Geralt's room.
When the door opened and Geralt walked in, Kain realized he must have nodded off at some point. His neck was screaming murder. He rubbed it wincing, got up.
"It's time," Geralt said, studying him a second, then led the way through the corridors Kain still remembered. Some he didn't quite recollect, either.
The Witcher brought him to the kitchen where Vesemir was discussing something that sounded like strategies with Ciri's Elf. Mostly it meant that Vesemir was talking and the Elf was allowing him and rarely put in some short remarks.
"I'll get the others," Geralt said, leaving Kain in their watchful company.
"You are having that trial, after all," Avallac'h remarked.
The older Witcher nodded. "What has to be done will be done."
"What about the time inconsistency? Have you found out a reason for it?"
"That we have not," Vesemir admitted, casting a glance of confused sadness Kain's way. "One thing at a time, as wise people say."
The Elf seemed to contemplate it, but gave no reaction.
Ciri released Yennefer's hand just before they entered the kitchen. It was not hard for her to be affectionate with the sorceress, but it was important that the men of this keep – the men who had last seen her as a young child – would now understand she was no longer the little girl they had known. Clutching her mother's hand in that instance seemed unwise.
Ciri stopped next to Kain and ran her gaze over Vesemir and Avallac'h, the latter quirking a smile at the sight of her new armor. Either in approval or mockery, she could not tell with him, anymore. "Where is Geralt?"
"He's gathering the other witchers, child," Vesemir said, settling at the head of the table. "We shall hold the trial to get it done. Postponing further wouldn't be a wise choice, all things considered."
A small smile of approval touched his mouth as he gave her a full once-over.
"That is quite some work with the armor. No one could have done any better. Yennefer's work, I assume? It is good, very good."
Avallac'h displayed no reaction aside from moving his cold scrutiny between the people present. "Zireael won't partake in the battle," he said in a tone that merely notified of something as obvious as the color of the sky.
Ciri attempted to offer Vesemir a smile but didn't manage. Avallac'h wiped it off her face before it could come. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. This is when I am at my best. When I am actually of any use," she told the Elf, glaring daggers at him. "You will not take away my right to fight for my own life!"
"Avallac'h isn't entirely wrong," Yennefer added, mulling over the thought, trying to decide which way she wanted to fall on this subject.
She knew Ciri was capable of protecting herself, of fight, but she also knew that to have Ciri get in close with the Wild Hunt and one of them possibly harming her was placing her exactly where they wanted her.
"You'll stay with me. I plan on shielding the place, making sure that once we've those inside, that they won't be able to break through or breech any further into the keep—"
Avallac'h was unperturbed by the outburst; his posture of an Elf statue with his hands behind his back didn't shift. "I'm afraid it is that kind of risk we cannot afford," he said. "All these people have gathered here to prevent them from taking you, and it is that you should respect before your own desires, is it not?"
"Ciri," Vesemir began, eager to squelch the conflict, "we all know your skill and how eager you are to put it to use. All of us who had the honor of training you and seeing you grow do know it. No one can take that away from you. But Avallac'h might be right about this. You are their sole target, and it's unwise to offer them such an easy access."
"They will merely throw all their army's efforts on cutting you off and taking you away at once," Avallac'h said. "I'm certain that – even despite your ambition to battle them – you understand how easily broken your confidence can be in this particular endeavor."
Ciri looked between them all with a new sense of betrayal, ire and indignation rising once again. There had been a lot of it over the last few days. "You said it yourself: they have an army, we do not. Everyone needs to fight."
She could already tell this was an argument she would not win. Not when each and every one of them was determined to keep her away.
She hated it. She hated it all so much. She had waited for so long, running and escaping like a frightened mouse, and now that she might finally get to confront her nightmares head on once and for all, she was being shoved away and forced to let everyone else fight her battle in her stead.
It did not just hurt her pride. It hurt everything that she was and heightened her belief that this would be her life always.
Ciri averted her gaze from them all and folded her arms across her chest, feeling distinctly uncomfortable in her armor now, for what was even the point of it? "Does not matter," she murmured, more to herself than any of them, defeated. "Why should I have any say in what happens to me?"
Kain felt for her, felt her emotions rolling thickly around like reddish smoke. But it was not his place to open his mouth at all.
"We are holding a council on the battle after the trial," Vesemir said with a softening expression. "We shall all be there, including you, Ciri. You do have a say along with each of us present."
"It does not change the lack of point in having Zireael on the battlefield like a carrot for a donkey," Avallac'h said. "I shall join for the council." He turned and walked away.
Ciri said nothing, could already imagine how that council would go. It was pointless.
She moved away from them all and leaned against the wall nearest the door Avallac'h had just left through, waiting for Geralt to return with Lambert, Eskel, and Coen.
Yennefer moved to stand beside Ciri, but unlike the times before, this time she didn't take the girl's hand, allowing her the chance to stand tall on her own, to watch as the witchers got prepared.
Geralt led the witchers procession in a few minutes later. Lambert's eyes locked on Kain with recognition closely followed by ire. His face creased; he pressed his lips and proceeded to one of the chairs at the table.
Geralt stopped next to Ciri and Yennefer. "I have to ask you to leave. This will be a closed trial. How it should be. We won't take long – time is of the essence."
"I want to stay," she told Geralt and before he could argue, continued. "I was trained as a witcher, this keep was my home, I carry a witcher amulet. And I have killed my fair share of monsters, just like the rest of you. I just… haven't received coin for it." Ciri straightened, looking her mentor in the eyes. "Please don't exclude me from this, as well."
The witchers at the table exchanged glances, except for Letho who looked less than interested in what was going on.
"You're too emotional about this, Ciri," Geralt said. "Here we have to determine what's right, and with as neutral an approach as necessary. Justice cannot be dealt from passion. It might be best for you to wait with Yennefer and the rest."
"So are you," she pointed out. "You knew the victim, after all. And you've already made your feelings about Kain quite clear. None of you are neutral in this matter."
"I know him, too, child," Vesemir said. "And Lambert knew the deceased. But we are witchers first and foremost. We have been through mutations, unlike you, and our emotions work not quite the same. I do not belittle your concern or your wish to see it through, but this might not be a good thing for you to see and worry yourself about before the battle. This matter shall be resolved with dignity and justice as our order commands, you have our word on that."
"Yeah, right," Lambert grumbled, shooting Kain an evil eye. "Dignity. As much dignity as anyone stabbing his partner in the heart with his silver deserves, anyway."
"What battle?" Ciri shot at Vesemir, annoyed at how they all kept dismissing her no matter the topic. "You have all just made it very clear I will have nothing to do with the battle. That I will sit pretty and wait.
"As for the trial; the less I know the more I will worry."
"As I also have made clear was that the council on the battle shall still be held," Vesemir said, his voice getting firmer like in the days of the trainings. "And that you shall be a part of it – not a mute, sitting-being-pretty part. And that stands."
Geralt shot an unwitting glance at Yennefer, as if instinctually for support, but then sighed, focusing on Ciri. No one was helping him with this.
"I understand where you're coming from," he said. "And I do agree that you have your medallion as not a trinket but a symbol of what is yours by right. But due to your not being the acting witcher living by the code, you may stay on one condition: you are to sit in silence and have no vote. An observer's role. Does that satisfy you? If not, you will have to wait outside."
"That is fair," Vesemir nodded.
Yennefer met Geralt's gaze and gifted him a small smile. Other than that, there wasn't anything else to do. He'd decided to go this route and he knew Ciri would kick up a fuss about it.
The good thing was that they'd given her a fair choice and chance and that it was up to her now to decide what she wanted to do with it.
Yennefer, on the other hand, had slowly made her way for the door to give them the privacy they'd requested so they could get on with their trial.
It wasn't entirely satisfactory, but Ciri knew it was the best offer she would get.
She nodded her confirmation and silently moved across the room to take the free chair next to Coen, hands in her lap, her sights set on Kain and Yennefer's retreating back.
Once the door shut behind the sorceress and Geralt took his seat next to Lambert across from Kain, Vesemir cleared his throat, leaning his elbows on the table.
"Given how dare the time is, we shall not dwell on the description of the case too much, since we all are familiar with it. But to resolve any possible questions of those who might not be fully familiar with the accusation, I ask Lambert – as the one closest to the group the deceased belonged to – lay the matter out to us, as briefly as possible."
Lambert's mouth twitched, his eyes swept over the accused briefly. "The deceased, as you call him, was Dirk, a man I knew, a man who my best friend Aiden considered his best friend in turn. They indeed had a group, all students of Cat School, but they worked their contracts on their own arrangement. Dirk – whenever he wasn't working alone or with Aiden – often shared his jobs with the man I accuse of murder today, known as White Cat.
"The accusation states that White Cat and Dirk took a contract in the Village of Hunton to kill a griffin that by that time had already slaughtered two people, a man and a woman, by shredding them to pieces right in the middle of the village.
"When the two witchers baited the beast and began the battle, White Cat suddenly turned on his own brother witcher and slew him in cold blood with a silver sword like a filthy demonic thing that needed cleansing." Lambert paused, casting a disdainful look Kain's way, his mouth distorting as if he could spit. "And then White Cat ran away like the coward he was, leaving the sword in his brother's still warm body, and so the villagers found the scene in a few hours when they dared show faces from their homes.
"It's not only I, but all of us witchers believe that the crime like that, as nakedly obvious and malicious as it fucking looks, should be punished with the same means the accused used to commit it: a silver sword through the heart."
He set his jaw and reached for the scotch bottle someone had left on the table from earlier.
Already Ciri was having a hard time keeping her mouth shut. She felt a mix of sympathy for Lambert for losing his friend, and annoyance that he was clearly not as neutral as the witchers had stated they were.
And, in addition, he was drinking? Not a good move.
She folded her arms across her chest, looking between Vesemir and Geralt, assuming they would at least give Kain the chance to tell his side of the story.
"The way it looks is dire, indeed," Vesemir sighed, scratching the stubble on his cheek. "But even when it is like that on witcher trials, we never decide before both sides of the story are known. For we all are aware there are more facets than one to any part of life and death." He looked to Geralt, continuing, "I am also aware some witchers tried to investigate the scene. Was anything else found there?"
"All evidence I found at the time pointed to the way Lambert described it happened," Geralt said, shooting a fleeting look at Ciri. "I have not found anything contradicting this story, considering the information I was given before I looked into it."
Lambert scoffed. "What other version can there be? People lie and what you see etched into the soil does not." He drank.
Ciri bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from scoffing, likewise clenching her fists to stop herself from smacking the bottle out of Lambert's hand.
She folded one leg over the other, her foot jiggling impatiently.
"Well, now that we've established the case itself," said Vesemir, "it is time to hear the accused and his account of what happened.
Lambert gave another derisive scoff and refilled his glass. Eskel shook his head solemnly. Letho was examining his nails, while Coen eyeballed Ciri furtively, having noticed how tense she was.
"Dirk asked me to help with the contract because Aiden was busy at the time, it's true," Kain began, looking down at the table surface in front of him. He kept seeing it all in his inner eye. "Only that it wasn't the solid contract – it was an unfinished business, more like. Three days before that, Aiden and Dirk received a contract for a griffin living on the mountain. And not because it was killing people or stealing their cows – just because it was a beast and the village people wanted witchers to do a preventive strike.
"Dirk and Aiden waited for one of the griffins to leave, then came up there and slaughtered the female with two cubs, then burned the nest. Then they took the money and went on with their lives. And a day later, the male returned and attacked the village.
"When the villagers came to Dirk, he said it was another griffin, altogether, probably a rabid one. So that would be yet a brand new contract. They paid again, and Dirk came to me, because Aiden was busy elsewhere already.
"When Dirk asked to help him, he never told me there was another griffin. I found out about it when we started the fight. The griffin didn't fare too well and soon enough was bleeding badly from Dirk's cuts. Dirk was yelling for me to 'get in there' and deal the final blow. I moved toward the beast, and then I… I just… I don't know what happened, but all of a sudden I felt it all at once: rage, despair, pain and fury… and sorrow so deep it only meant an irretrievable loss. I saw the whole story in shreds of visions and a whole lot of his pain and betrayal and fury that overwhelmed me.
"Dirk was yelling at me, but I could barely hear him, my head pounding while piecing everything together. The griffin knew Dirk was one of those who burnt his nest – he knew by the smell, I guess. He wanted him dead – he barely even saw me next to him. But he was giving up. He hadn't been eating those two days, he was weak, bleeding, and just… done. Giving up. At that moment, he reconciled himself with death."
Kain swallowed, the pain of memory swirling around his chest like a poisonous cloud.
"When Dirk went for the killing blow, I put myself between them, and my sword went into his heart. I saw his eyes when he was dying, and there was not a sliver of understanding why I was doing it. There was a betrayal as deep as the beast felt. But no one ever knows that beasts do feel and understand…" He sighed shakily. "I left the sword, and I don't even remember much of what happened. I felt like I my head would explode any moment.
"I think the link I caught with the griffin allowed us to just leave together. He was weak, and we didn't get too far, but we hid well enough to recover. And next we went to Brokilon."
Ciri listened with rapt attention to Kain's side of the story, heart constricting in pain at the vivid scene that bloomed before her inner eye.
She knew it could not truly compare, that Kelpie would never be hunted the way Griffin was, but the emotions were the same.
What she would not do for that loyal, lovely horse…
Surely Geralt had to understand. And Vesemir, too. They never killed for the sake of killing.
Ciri was less sure about Lambert, didn't think he would see things the same way.
She straightened in her seat, mouth dry and heartbeat elevated, trying to send Kain strength and courage (even if he seemed to be doing fine on his own) while controlling her own raging emotions.
When the pause stretched out and witchers seemed to be contemplating and undecided, Lambert slammed his empty mug on the table and cursed.
"Are you fucking seriously debating this horseshit?!" he demanded. "Aiden never told me about it, and he would – just as he did dozens of times when they screwed up this job or that."
"We both know he truly didn't see it necessary to tell you everything, Lambert," Geralt put in, his frown deep and dark. "Don't forget now about his own demise, for I was there with you, and there's a lot that surfaced then that you didn't have that clear of a clue about before."
"Oh fuck yourself, Geralt!" Lambert yelled. "The man was my friend! I knew him! He'd go and clear up that mess himself along with Dirk. If he went to do that other case—"
"Which involved those famous three nights in Novigrad brothel spree?" Eskel asked grimly. The scar creeping from his mouth up his cheek made it seem he was sneering a little. "Even I would pick that over an enraged griffin business any day. Let alone a Cat witcher. We all know you Felines' passion for pleasures."
"With all due respect to our Schools and their differences," said Vesemir, "it won't be amiss to point out that Cat witchers indeed have gained a reputation someone of our profession wouldn't be proud of. Be it contracts or even political matters. That version is a plausible one, however against it some of us might be set."
Ciri eyed Lambert's outburst with a slight frown, wondering if that is what she looked like whenever she threw a fit.
Her heart skipped a beat when Geralt, Eskel, and Vesemir chimed in, all seeming a lot more willing to reconsider the matter than they had been.
She idly toyed with her bracelet, her gaze moving around the group of men in turn, praying they would all dismiss the case, or at the very least make his punishment a lenient one.
"Aw my ploughing arse!" Lambert cried out, throwing his hands up as he leaned back into his chair. "Who can swear that this shit is actually true? A fucking griffin and the very one who slew his friend. Our friend! So what, we send for the stinking beast to question it? Don't make me laugh. A murder is a murder. No two fucking ways about it. Besides, that griffin did kill two people – that is a fact. So that was what witchers had to do – kill the killer. And instead this whoreson killed his friend and escaped with the killer bird. And what the hell are you people debating here?"
"Have you seen the nest, Geralt?" Vesemir asked. "Anything to support this version?"
Geralt shook his head a no, his face apologetic. "No. No one told me there was a nest, let alone more than one griffin. I investigated the places people showed and told me about. Unfortunately, it's all I know."
"Not grand," Eskel muttered, studying the table in front of him. Coen sighed.
"Because there was no fucking nest," Lambert added, refilling his mug.
"That nest and its destruction was the reason the griffin slaughtered those people," Kain said in a calm voice, still staring at the table in front of him. He didn't have to look up at Lambert to read his expression. "It was revenge. He knew that humans did it to his family while he was away hunting wild goats to feed them."
"Do we really need to sit on our asses wasting time on this pile of horseshit when another pile is rolling toward us to sweep us off the earth?" Letho's drawling voice commanded silence and all gazes except Kain's went to him. He was still cleaning under his nails with the tip of his hunting knife as if there was no worry in the whole world for him. "We weren't born yesterday. We know how most Cats do business. And now you want to execute one more able sword over a ploughing Cat that went with his greed and got two people killed over a job he failed. In the best tradition of rogue Cats, at that. I won't even start to list all the cases I've heard of when Cats got civilians killed over jobs they lied about but took coin for.
"But sure, what the heck, kill this one, too, and call it a day.
"I don't like to judge, but this is bullshit."
Ciri nodded several times at the big brute's speech, unsure of who he was or where they knew him from, but grateful, nonetheless.
Lambert would not be swayed, she knew that. But if he was out-voted…
"Having heard the other version now, I must admit that it does make sense, as some of you agree," Vesemir said. "We cannot deny the murder of one witcher by another's hand and sword, nor can we deny the treachery of the deceased's work, for all the facts Gwyncath's listed do explain the griffin's behavior, as well as the pattern of that particular Cats' group that we have found out about later.
"I also have to point out here, that whenever one of our order comes upon a witcher who cheats and brings demise on innocent people's heads – people who pay him – it is also our duty to execute certain measures to prevent that witcher from doing such thing again. For this, too, is a crime against the very nature of what we all stand for."
"Aw shit," Lambert groaned and drank.
Vesemir ignored him. "Therefore, taking all of the above into consideration, I am inclined to emphasize how, had our order found out about a cheated job that has killed two innocent people, we would be obliged to take action and issue a trial for such witcher who betrayed his code.
"In this case, I am inclined to rule that punishment executed by another witcher's sword. Silver or not – that was not quite an intentional offence on Gwyncath's part, we all see that, but one made in a rush of battle. With all that in mind, I wish to vote for releasing the accused, for his crime came as secondary and a direct consequence of the crime Dirk had committed before.
"Who's for it?" He raised his hand.
So did Letho, Eskel, Coen and Geralt. Lambert cursed under his breath and shook his head. His eyes stabbed a glare Kain's way.
"It's lucky it wasn't Aiden," he said. "I would've killed you then with no fucking trials."
A part of Ciri was tempted to leap to her feet with a quite uncharacteristic girly squeal, her face all smiles and sunshine, but like with her earlier anger she tried to contain herself. She couldn't stop the sigh of relief that escaped her as the vote passed, however.
She got up from her chair and smoothed her hair back from her face, squeezing Geralt's arm in gratitude once near enough, even if she knew his decision had not been made because of her. "What now?" she asked, assuming she was free to talk again, and looked to Kain. "I'm not sure it is wise for you to leave until we are certain The Wild Hunt has been defeated." If for some bizarre reason, The Hunt didn't show up or decided to take a detour by Skellige, Eredin would find him. She was certain of it.
"You are free, Gwyncath," Vesemir added as everybody was getting up from their seats. "You can decide whether you want to go or stay here and fight with us – in case you and Ciri have come to be friends, or so I've been told."
"I've got nowhere to go, so I'll stay," Kain said. "You need fighters, and this place has been my second home at one point. It won't be forgotten. I would have protected it then – I shall do so now, if you'll have me."
"That is decided, then," Vesemir nodded. "I shall gather everybody in the main hall for the last council."
"I'll help," Coen said as the witchers followed their elder.
"Let's see if those chests with armor sets are still around from those… long-ago days," Geralt said, beckoning the Cat to follow. "This leather looks nice and warm, but would barely be harder than butter when one of those Hunt swords get you."
"No objections here," Kain said, falling into step with him.
This was all working out rather nicely – except for the part where they might all die in a few hours, of course. Ciri smiled watching Geralt lead Kain away, both of them carrying much less tension now. Almost like they were old friends.
She didn't follow, instead heading outside to the courtyard. It would take Vesemir a bit of time to gather everyone and more often than not he tended to get distracted on the way. It gave her a few minutes to sharpen Swallow against the whetstone outside.
When the door to the room they'd been holed up in opened and the witchers emerged, Yennefer had to admit she was surprised to see the boy free and not in chains or some kind of fisted grip.
They almost looked civil.
Yennefer walked away in search of Keira who'd been yelling at her for the past fifteen minutes about being crazy, a bitch and unhinged. Yennefer didn't disagree, settling in to work on her broken limb as best she could—although whatever Triss had done had already contributed and healed it a great deal. Yennefer just wanted to make sure that when that frosted hell came down on them with its full force, Keira'd be able to take it and not crumble because of some irrational outburst.
When Yennefer was sure the blonde'd be okay, she got up, following Vesemir who'd attempted to gather them all together so that they could discuss their next plan of action.
"Looks like it could've been yours," Geralt said, surveying Kain once the Cat had clasped the Cat School chest piece's straps.
"Most of us were of similar built," he said. "This set looks rather new, surprisingly…"
"Had a bunch of new ones made for the Tournament in both schools," Geralt said, his brow furrowing immediately as the bizarre idea returning to his mind. "Still can't believe you've been there."
"I can't believe in the time span," Kain said, tightening the belts.
"There must be an explanation," Geralt said. "I would've believed in your lies, had Vesemir not actually confirmed this. And now…"
Kain looked up at him from the armor straps, considering him. "You remember me yourself now, don't you."
The Witcher gave a weak shrug, frowning. "I sort of do. When I saw you in the tavern for the first time, it struck me with some… familiar sense. I couldn't place it. Not until I saw how Vesemir looks at you. He was more involved with Cats when they came visiting. Gweld and I stuck more to our own. Or, well…"
"You made exceptions for our Felines," Kain finished for him with a wry sneer. "They told stories."
Geralt couldn't help a small smirk himself. "Oh did they?"
"They were keeping some scores, I was never too interested to keep track of their gossips."
"Scores, huh," he murmured, and smiled a short smile. "Gweld was guessing as much."
"They liked him. That I remember. Especially Belka – he was her favorite 'pup'."
Geralt locked his eyes on Kain, stilling for a moment. "You were there… Hells be damned, you truly were there."
"I was. I don't know how – all things considered – but I was."
Geralt studied him for a long bit, then bent to close the dusty old chest. "If we survive this, we'll find out."
"First thing's first," Kain said, observing the swords selection. Some brand new, just like sets of armor made and never used after the massacre no one had predicted.
"I might yet come to like you," Geralt said, and picked one of the swords from the holders so thickly covered in dust they seemed to be made out of ashes. He held it out to the Cat – the pommel's shape was the Cat head. "Might work better on the Hunters than the one you came with. Besides, it's fitting."
"I haven't touched a silver sword ever since…" He looked at it, but hesitated to touch it. Geralt's hand holding it shifted closer.
"That piece of history is closed, Gwyncath."
"It's Kain," he corrected, and took the sword. He pulled the blade halfway out, admiring the work. He brushed away the dust and adjusted the straps around his chest, the pommel sticking from behind his shoulder. "I'd rather have my old one back, as well. It's not that old."
"As you wish." Geralt started out of the armory; Kain picked up the discarded Skellige wolf-fur set, and followed.
It wasn't long before Eskel entered the courtyard to gather those of them out there for the meeting. Ciri sheathed her sword and followed him and a rowdy group of Skelligers back inside, not especially looking forward to this council but able to recognize it was important.
She found a seat next to Yennefer, eyeing Lambert who looked even more agitated than he had earlier. Ciri expected at least three curse-filled outbursts from him during this gathering as well.
Kain had discarded his Skellige-made leather set in the room they appointed for him and joined Geralt on his way to the main hall.
Two sorceresses, Ciri, Vesemir, Lambert, Mousesack and Eskel sat around the table with a map on it. The rest of the motley crew stood and sat around close so they could hear.
Kain stopped beside Geralt, studying the map.
Unlike the time before, Yennefer grabbed a gentle hold of Ciri's hand beneath the table, giving it a squeeze, letting her know in no uncertain terms that she was happy things had worked out with her new friend and that Yen was still here. That it hadn't completely been destroyed.
As soon as everyone had gathered, Vesemir stood. The room fell silent.
"Thank you all for coming," the old witcher said, regarding each and every one of them. "As you know, we are short on time and should get right down to the battle plans. However, I am also aware not everyone here has a good grasp on who, or what, The Wild Hunt is. So let's start there. Avallac'h?"
The Elf stepped forward into the light. "Dearg Ruadhri, or The Red Riders, is an army of Aen Elle elves. Ancient expert warriors with a long history of invasion and enslavement to further the survival of their race. Our race. Many among them are mages, so prepare for battle magics.
Their goal will be to kill as many of us as possible and to take Zireael, to gain access to her powers."
Ciri shrunk a little in her seat, uncomfortable with everyone's eyes on her before their attention returned to the Elf.
"They will travel here through portals, five or six at a time, including their infamous hounds. Like their masters, the hounds can be killed by sword or magic, but do not let them touch you. You will end up with frostbite.
"There will be plenty of warriors to dispose of, or as the King himself, Eredin, calls them: canon fodder. But other than ensuring they do not get a hold of Zireael, our priority should be the King and his three generals. Without them, the riders will be no more. Eredin is the ones with the power to transport his warriors from one world to another. Cut off the snake's head, the rest of the body will wither."
Geralt nodded a mute appreciation for Avallac'h's input and surveyed the people. "Before we attempt to cut any heads, we have some work to do to prepare for those heads' arrival.
"Our keep is not the worst place to lead a battle, but it's been a very long time since it was hard to breach, and some things in it need to be compensated."
"I'd name the hole in the wall the first in the list," Vesemir said. "We'll have to fix it before the attack begins to the best of our abilities."
"A bit of magic could help there, I reckon," Keira said. "I shall assist."
Geralt nodded, and continued, "We need to prevent them from arriving directly to our yard, or this little war campaign will be over very soon and not in our favor." He looked at Yennefer and Triss. "Any suggestions?"
Yennefer nodded. "A magic shield. It'll force them to land outside of the keep and give us a shadow of control, but I'll be useless for anything else – I won't be able to tend to their navigational portals."
"I can take care of those," Lambert said. "It'll force them into the forest and into our playing field. No one knows these lands better than those of us who were bred here."
"I'll help," Coen offered quietly.
"If you make your main focus the closing of the portals," Yennefer continued, "I can provide you both with invisibility amulets. If we're able to limit the number of their forces by limiting how many make it through the portals, that'll significantly help. However, you won't be able to engage with the enemy. They'll be able to smell, sense and possibly hear you and any attack will disrupt its power."
Lambert didn't appear too happy with the non-physical aspect of the plan while Coen looked more determined to make it work.
"And if anything goes wrong. I'll be there to provide fire support," Triss added.
Both nodded and all eyes veered back to Geralt.
"What do we do if they break through your shield?" Ciri asked Yennefer. "I don't doubt your power, but The Hunt has very capable mages of their own, and I assume even a sorceress as skilled as yourself will not be able to keep it up for hours and hours? It will be draining, won't it?"
"We don't have hours upon hours," Geralt put in. "We have to do all that is in our power to manage to break through as many of their forces as we can before they get close."
"Which brings us to the forest around and what we can do there," Lambert said.
"We'll dig some traps around the perimeter," Roche said. "In the best traditions of the Blue Stripes."
"With sharpened spikes on the bottom," Ves added.
Geralt nodded.
"I'll get back to laboratory and make more potions," Vesemir said. "Someone needs to go see if anything in the armory can be used."
"I'll make more bombs to close the portals with and blast some of them around the forest," Eskel said.
"I'll help with that," Lambert said.
"I'll see about the armory," Coen said.
"We're sitting on a large deposit of gas here," Mousesack said. "When the attack starts, I can make cracks in the earth and light them up."
"Good," Geralt said.
"I'll see what explosives I can cook up to blow their ploughin arses in the air," Zoltan added.
"I'll look around to make sure we have no holes in the keep unnoticed," Geralt said.
Yennefer listened to them bounce back and forth with ideas, absorbing each to make sure she didn't miss a stitch of the plan, and then addressed Ciri. "Extremely draining. But as Geralt said… it isn't likely that we'll be able to hold them off for hours. They will break through our defenses eventually, I only hope that I'll be able to maintain it long enough for us to make a near perfect opportunity for one of them to take the snake's head."
Ciri nodded to Yennefer's response, then looked to Geralt. "I will help you." She wanted to spend some time with him before the battle, like she had done Yennefer.
"One more key thing," Avallac'h said. "Zireael, or Cirilla has to stay away from the battle and thus ensure that they do not get their prize so easily. I shall take it upon myself to protect her with my power, as I have been for a while."
"All right," Vesemir nodded. "It will be safer inside the keep – at least for some time. While Yennefer's shield is holding."
Yennefer studied Avallac'h.
She didn't mind so much his declaration and want to protect Ciri as she couldn't do it herself and Geralt would be really wrapped up, but it was strange to her, that with as much as he knew about who they were fighting, he'd chosen to stand back.
This was his battle as much as it was theirs.
Why wouldn't he be on the front lines so that they could finally end this?
How badly she wanted into his head.
Yennefer nodded and then threw another glance in Geralt's direction, wondering if he was thinking the same or if like Vesemir he'd accepted the offer.
"Then we all know what to do." She needed to check her magic supplies, make sure she had enough amulets for those that would be running around outside and all the ingredients. "We should get started."
Ciri eyed the Elf, trying to tamper down her annoyance and her own need to be on the battlefield. "Not inside the keep," she countered Vesemir's train of thought. "I will agree to remain behind on one condition only: I will be on the roof of the highest tower. I need to be able to see what is happening. Otherwise the uncertainty will drive me mad."
Even though Kain had been aware all his life that his mother wanted him hidden as much as possible from some threats he couldn't even fully comprehend, he never quite found himself in a situation akin to Ciri's where he had to be kept behind people's backs and take their sacrifices for granted.
Kain could sympathize with her rebellion. He would have felt as bad as she was allowed to feel.
However, he wasn't quite sure about the stakes in this and couldn't judge. They might be right, considering he was by now familiar with how far her temper could drive her.
"This is unacceptable," Avallac'h argued in the calmest tone full of confidence of its right. "They are mages, Zireael. If they see you and know where you are, it takes a spell or two to end this. You cannot be anywhere on the towers or on battlefield."
"I know how you feel, Ciri," Vesemir said, his face softening as he looked her in the eye. "I know it's hard to stay behind when you're so eager to battle for your life. But remember what the most important thing is when you hunt a beast or a creature much stronger and faster than yourself?"
Ciri ground her teeth at Avallac'h and flashed a look at Vesemir when he chimed it. He did not know how she felt. None of them had any idea what this was like, no matter how much they tried to convince themselves otherwise.
And the Hunt's soldiers were not faster than her. She could literally move in the blink of an eye. Of course, none of them (other than Avallac'h) knew. They had never witnessed it with their own eyes.
She ignored Vesemir's question for now and rose to her feet, knuckles resting on the table as she leaned over to consider him and the Elf both. "Then allow me to ask a different question. If we are not to observe what happens outside the keep, out in the courtyard, how shall we prepare for an attack should the rest of you fail to hold them off? If they suddenly break down the doors and descend upon us, all will be lost." Her eyes bore into Avallac'h's. "If you and I could take them all on alone, we would have done so long ago."
"Keira and I shall be on the towers watching out for our perimeter," Triss chimed in, "to see when our forces pull back from the forest so we could provide back-up fire. Literal fire in my case. I shall rain it down upon them while the witchers pull back."
"That would be very helpful, thank you, Triss," Geralt said. She smiled and nodded. He turned to Ciri. "We all know it's hard for you. But you need to understand that we're all here to provide you most support and protection we can muster. And to make it all work as intended, you need to stay away from the battle. We can't let them even glimpse you. That is the point."
"Precisely," Avallac'h felt obliged to add, his face as impassive as a lizard's.
Ciri stared them all down, one by one, looking for someone, anyone, who might actually see things from her point of view. She did not find any.
She gave a smile devoid of warmth and pushed away from the table. "Then I wish you all the best of luck. If you should need me, which you won't, I shall be upstairs, hiding in my bed under the covers." Ciri blew a stray lock of ashen hair out of her eyes, her face hot as she strode away calling over her shoulder, "And let me remind you what you fight for; to prevent the end of the world. If any of you think you are fighting for my life, you are wrong. I died long ago."
She was a source of power, and a memory. Nothing more. Something that had been abundantly clear the moment she set foot back at Kaer Morhen.
Ciri wiped away angry tears as started away, hating them all and hating herself even more for not being able to just be docile and compliant for once.
"Let her be on the wall while the Hunt is in the woods," Kain said, and looked to Geralt. "Give her at least that much. You know you should. When the Hunt breaches inside, she can go hide and be safer. But before they do – it's more damaging to her than helping anything at all."
Geralt frowned, probably questioning inwardly how come Kain could pipe in about the kid he helped raise. Kain saw in his eyes, however, that he was reconsidering, because he knew her even better than the Cat did. A rebellious Ciri was not something that he wanted to enable.
"Makes sense," he conceded eventually and cast a look at Ciri. "When they breach, you have to go inside and stay with Avallac'h. Do we understand each other?"
Ciri paused with her back to them all, filled with too much anger and self-loathing to look at them all. And as much as she felt grateful for Kain's input, it infuriated her to no end it had to be a witcher to make the same point she had attempted, for someone to actually listen. "Perfectly," she said before continuing on her way. She needed a moment to herself to calm the rage that swirled inside her like a storm of fire.
Her answer felt like a lash, but Geralt did understand. If even Gwyncath managed to learn as much about her character in two days, Geralt was familiar with it on a deeper level. He had to know better than anyone how dangerous it was for Ciri when she was refused something she thought she needed. She would do it anyway, but at what cost?
"I brought some stuff with me," Zoltan added. "Barrels, too. We can set 'em around the possible places they'd breach and make a few blasts along the bastards' way. I'll get busy with that."
Geralt nodded. "Remember, Eredin cannot get his hands on Ciri. That is most important. Now, here's the plan of the fortress for those unfamiliar with it. We'll try to stop them where we can. As far away as we can. But if anything goes wrong, we abandon the outer courtyard and fall back to the keep where we hold our last stand. If we fail there – then we fail completely."
"Let's hope our forest party takes care of as many of them as possible," Lambert said.
"Yes. You make the bombs for us and stay inside the keep to provide more support in our base. I'll go to the woods. Also Letho, Eskel, Kain and Coen. We will be aware of where the trapping pits will be, so we will try to lead some into them. Triss shall provide fire back-up."
She nodded. "When you start to fall back, I shall cover your retreat to the best of my abilities."
"That is it for now, then," Vesemir concluded, getting up. "There's a lot to do in preparation, let's not waste any more time. I'll go back to potions for the witchers."
"None for me," Kain said. Geralt and Lambert turned surprised eyes to him. Vesemir was taken aback, as well.
"You have mutation, do you not?" he asked.
"No."
Geralt leaned in, peering into his eyes. "No one even thought you might not be," he said, flabbergasted. "Your eyes seemed a bit unusual being hazel, but it doesn't always work the same way on Aen Seidhe. So we thought—"
"Our masters kept it to themselves," Kain said. "I mostly looked the part, so they let the other schools believe I was one. I didn't use signs, but used my own abilities instead. It's as good as."
Geralt scowled, but nodded curtly. "Another question for later if we have later. You fight like one – I know as much, so that's enough for now."
"Until he falls for one of the hounds and starts slashing us instead," Lambert muttered.
"Enough of this," Vesemir snapped. "Everybody has their tasks. Let us begin." He started away from the table, heading for the laboratory.
Everybody else got up and began to disperse according to their jobs.
Ciri took a seat on her cot, elbows on her thighs and face in her hands, trying to calm herself to the best of her ability. Even if she had been forbidden to participate in the fight, it did not mean she would not have to raise her sword in self-defense. And Geralt had taught her never to enter a fight when angry. It meant you would lose, almost every time.
But it was hard. Harder than ever to cool her temper. Her hands trembled from the effort.
She inhaled deeply and lay down, gaze set on the stone ceiling, deciding to count the cracks in the material as a means of distracting herself.